


Goodmorning, my love, and farewell

by Rosebud_Secret



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 22:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11838273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosebud_Secret/pseuds/Rosebud_Secret
Summary: "My dear Thorin,I never thought I could do this.Many years have passed since the last time I left the Shire. I have given my book to Frodo, my nephew, so he could better understand who I’ve been and maybe, just maybe, finish the story I started. I’m not sure he fancies unexpected travels yet, but I learned on my skin that when an adventure calls you, you have to go. Willing or not. He’ll do good, he’s a Baggins.Now I’m walking, all by myself, along the Misty Mountains’ trail and I’m not afraid. Would you be surprised? I remember the last time I was here and the way you looked at me, under rain and great thunders..."





	Goodmorning, my love, and farewell

 

My dear Thorin,

I never thought I could do this. 

Many years have passed since the last time I left the Shire. I have given my book to Frodo, my nephew, so he could better understand who I’ve been and maybe, just maybe, finish the story I started. I’m not sure he fancies unexpected travels yet, but I learned on my skin that when an adventure calls you, you have to go. Willing or not. He’ll do good, he’s a Baggins.

Now I’m walking, all by myself, along the Misty Mountains’ trail and I’m not afraid. Would you be surprised? I remember the last time I was here and the way you looked at me, under rain and great thunders. I was humbled, terrified. You made me feel so small, so silly, so inadequate, so... coward. Back then, I was a well spoken Hobbit: I shouldn't have been that afraid, but I did not know my strength back then. Now I’m bent, older, weaker and less wise than what should be appropriate for someone much younger than myself. I could have asked Lord Elrond to give me an escort, or, at least, some company. However, I wanted to be alone. 

And with you, nevertheless. 

Luckily, there are no giants today and no storm. The sky is clean, the wind gentle. I promise I won’t trudge close to those dastardly pits to sniff the stink of any goblin this time. Or at least I hope so: Sting belongs to Frodo, and my butter knife cuts just so.

There are only ghosts to keep me company today, shiny treetop glimpses and  vibrant shades below them. Memories and echoes, regrets and howlings of melancholy. The world is on the verge of war, I can sense the coming tragedy in the thin air of this red dawn, but I’m too old to bother, my beloved, and I’m not afraid of death anymore. I had a long life, longer than any Hobbit, and I’m so tired. I just want to go into the Unknown for good and start anew, maybe in another world, in another home. My true one, or so they say. Someone else will find a way to save the day. Not me. No, sir. Not today. Today it’s just for me and you, and Fili, and Kili and all the ones that passed away along the years. 

I’m almost done myself but I can close the distance to be at your side for one, last time. That much is sound.

Are Balin and Ori with you? I wonder: are they lost? Are they dead? They haven’t written me in a long while. Nobody has been able to tell me anything about them.  I suppose I will not live long enough to hear the answer. In fact, I’m writing this letter to say farewell, Thorin. Maybe one day you will open your eyes again and rise from your tomb like a lad from a long sleep. Maybe you will remember me, your wee Hobbit. Or maybe you will not. That matters not. Going away without saying goodbye would be rude of me. So here I am, there and back again, one last time. I’m not afraid that I won’t make it, because I  _ will _ make it. 

I have forgiven you for what you did that day, before the battle. However, no-one grows so old to forget all his grudges: I loved you, Thorin, more than you have ever known, more than I knew myself, at that time. Maybe I hate the both of us for it. Just a tad and not too much, insofar as it’s convenient.

I have never been married, you know? Nor I have had another company, after you. It took me years to understand that my loneliness wasn’t a matter of loyalty to your memory. No, the truth is... I didn’t want to find myself in the condition of losing someone I love.

Again. 

Since that day I’ve always been scared. Your death destroyed all the happiness of my lifetime in a blink of an eye, in the time of a breath: your last one. I have kept on living, of course, but I did it as a broken mirror: distort and unfixable. I’m not accusing you of that, I’m sure you did not die on a whim just to displease me. Not that you could not have, but you did not. 

You know, it is funny how everything feels so close and distant at the same time. It seems like yesterday when you hugged me on this very cliff, and, even if it’s a long gone yesterday, if I close my eyes I still feel the warmth of your arms and the smell of your skin. Forgive me, I’m writing just a few lines for day, to cherish them and to get used to the idea that I won’t be here for much longer. Surely not long enough to see my hope fulfilled. I am quite sure that you can recall what cliff I am babbling about. The one of the Eagles? Not that one, dear laddie. Think Thorin. If you don’t, keep trying: I knew your stubbornness firsthand. Of course, in the case the death has made you lazy and dull, you can always ask for a copy of the  _ Red Book of Westmarch _ , it’ll be ready by the time you’ll end your nap. You’ll find it enlightening, even if you probably would object the way I pictured you. Trust me on this. Oh, by the way, I kept this  _ thing _ between us out of it. It would have been too much, even for a disreputable Hobbit like myself. And it’s all your fault. Yes sir. To fall in love with a dwarf, a filthy, stubborn, tedious dwarf, would have never crossed my mind if I hadn't met you. Trust my word. I will never forgive you for making me the happiest person in this world: terrified, exhausted, almost dead at times, but happy, at the end of the day. I never felt so alive than in the year I spent at your service. We had a bad start, indeed, but then it got better, way better.

I’ve met the Elven King today. He was charming and sensitive, he even let me sleep on a comfortable bed this time! I saw respect in his eyes and sadness for my impending departure. I don’t think he will never leave his Forest and one day it will perish as well. Poor soul… In my old age I’ve grown acquainted to the sadness of losing, one by one, every friend you have ever had. The new ones, simply, cannot fill the blankness... It makes you feel so lonely, because you’re the very last one still standing, alive but alone. I can only imagine the anguish of seeing the entire world shifting day after day, year after year, century after century, eon after eon, right in front of your powerless eyes. How long before the day you would be a stranger in your very home?  _ A thousand years is a mere blink of an eye in the life of an elf _ : yes… now I understand. Maybe the Elven King thinks that I envy his immortal life, but the truth is I wouldn’t want that kind of chain on my heart, not even for all the gold in the world. You need the strength of an elf to bear the sight of everything fading in the ashes of time. I simply do not have it, nor I would want to.

About him… well, I have a wee confession to make… Maybe not so little. Please don’t be mad at me! Do you remember the diamond necklace? Yes,  _ that _ one! I stole it from the hall of Erebor, right after the battle, and I gave it to the Elven King as a token of friendship and peace. It felt like the proper thing to do at the time. Even if I don’t regret my decision, I know it wasn’t entirely correct. Maybe I’m not such an honest burglar, after all. 

What’s done is done. I just wanted you to know it and to clear my conscience. 

I’m in Dale today. King Bard has passed long ago and now his son is on the throne. Oh, I wish you could see the lake, right now, shining in the golden rays of the setting sun. It’s so beautiful… 

Sometimes I still have nightmares about that night, when Smaug flew on Laketown to take his revenge. I was so frightened back then, I wish I’ve been more brave and calm. We were all standing on that cliff, petrified, powerless, all but one. You were down the path with only gold in your mind and in your heart. At the beginning I didn’t even notice your absence since I simply felt it like a cold blade at my throat. Kili and Fili were in Laketown, under a firestorm “Why isn’t Thorin running down the mountain to save them?”, I asked myself, then I turned and you were there, made of stone, your eyes on Erebor’s walls. I should have understood that it was the beginning of the end. But, at first, I tried to justify you: you were the King and your first duty was to take care of your reign. Too many people were counting on you. But when we got back inside I felt that something else was filling your mind, something dark, something evil and then I recalled the moment when you had raised your sword against me. Me, of all people. I should have forced you to leave the treasure halls in that moment, but I was afraid and now I regret my cowardice. After that I confessed my concerns to Balin and he told me that to possess the Arkenstone would have only make your condition worse, thus I decided to keep it for myself to bargain us a way out. Balin was heartbroken and I was desperate. I didn't want to see you dead by the hands of men or by the arrows of elves. I was ready to die in your defence, like anybody else, but my conscience, Thorin, prohibited me to follow your lead. I hope you can understand this now. When you came to me, you were right: I was a thief, but in that moment, when you smiled for my alleged candor, I saw how deep you cherished me into your heart and I felt overwhelmed with love. You was there with me again, and I had a gist on how to relieve you from that sickness. Instead I didn’t, Dwalin called for the battle and I... I just let you go without saying a word. There has not been a day since then in which I haven’t thought about it, and regretted it. Sometimes a little, tiny, insignificant act can change the fate of the world. I missed that spark, and you died. I am so sorry, Thorin, I didn’t see. I was the blind one… I thought that forcing you to be reasonable would have been enough. I was so stupid, so naïve and I paid the price by losing you. 

Please, forgive me...

I actually ignore if you’ll ever wake up from your deadly slumber. Lord Elrond told me that cyclically the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves come back to life and I hope you will as well, even if you’re just a common King. Common for them, but not for me. As I said: I don’t know if you’ll come back, but I want to believe, I _ need _ to believe that you will, and act accordingly.

This is so difficult, Thorin! It’s so unfair! I waited and waited and waited… for nothing! It’s time for me to leave, but I’m not done with this letter! I don’t want you to make my same mistakes. If you’ll ever wake up, promise me… No: vow on my memory that you will live and love and be happy. We won’t meet again, Thorin, not tomorrow, nor in a distant future because I will be gone  _ forever _ . I don’t want you to grief for me. Find someone, a dwarf, a dwarf-woman, I really don’t care. Don’t forget about getting yourself some children and grandchildren. If you want to keep me in your heart, if you want to cherish my memory, sit on an armchair by the fire and tell them the story of a little Hobbit who helped your people to regain their home against a dragon. Tell them how a Troll sneezed on me and make them laugh. Not once, Thorin Oakenshield you should remember me in sadness. This old me deserve no tears: I had a meaningful life, and peaceful (for the most part). I came back to my armchair, I read my books, planted my trees and watched them grow. You can do better. I know you can.

I don’t want my last breath to be the end of your sunny days. Life has just began, Thorin Oakenshield, live it. After all, you’re just sleeping.

Goodmorning, my love, and farewell.

 

Bilbo Baggins, always your (not so honest) burglar, who have lived happily ever after to the end of his days.

 

P.S. I’m leaving you my  handkerchief, it could always come handy. Just in case.


End file.
